Care and Feeding of a Hawke
by shinyuy
Summary: There are a lot of rules one needs to keep in mind when living with Conner Hawke. He isn't your usual rogue, do-gooder, leader, best friend, or lover. A former Tivinter Slave gets to write the book on how to take care of his Hawke.
1. Rule 1 Hawkes are not what they appear

Behind that Eldredge Mask

Living with Uncle Gamlin wasn't the most wondrous thing in the world... half the time Conner worked himself to near staggering just so he could sleep and not feel the various vermin crawling around in his bed with him. Tonight was no different. By the time he limped back in half carrying a mostly asleep Bethany the sun was already gleaming off of High Town's spires. The two Hawke siblings had been out on the Wounded Coast hunting down raiders, slavers and the like for bounties and various jobs but it all ended almost at the Hanged Man. Instead of drinking there and begging Varric to let them crash with him, again, they spent the night up in High Town helping a very attractive and troublesome pirate woman. Isabella was irritable to most men and even some women but Varric had noticed and pointed out that despite her best attempts to rile Hawke nothing happened. Well nothing that would indicate he'd ever take her up on the invitation to join her at the Hanged Man.

Conner could see the look in his eye, wanting to ask him why he gave no reaction to the woman beyond wanting to help. He'd be damned if he'd tell him though. It was a secret closely guarded by the rouge but the cunning dwarf would figure it out soon enough. Anders was already showing interest in him. Isabella wasn't an idiot, though selfish and indulgent, and it wouldn't take her long to start surmising anyway. He had no fear from Avaline's judgement one way or the other. Merrill would take a while probably. She was cute, smart but a bit dim too. It reminded him he should stop by her place to see how she was settling in...

Then there was Fenris. He had no idea how to read the moody man beyond what was obvious. Up front the man hated mages, for a personal reason and one rightly deserved, and was not afraid to be very vocal about it. His hatred of his Master and magisters was as obvious as the markings burned into his skin. His memories of any life before those brands was gone and he was left only with what happened up to now. Conner wondered what he would think, how he would react... he felt guilty for finding him handsome and intriguing. He was a puzzle Conner wanted to fit together. Someone he wanted to help... another to add to the list.

Conner groaned and got up, rolling out of the bottom bunk. Above him his sister and mother cuddled together, undisturbed by him at all. Bethany had worked hard since this time yesterday and the mage needed her rest. All of this was hard on his mother, from fleeing Loathering and losing Carver to finding out that everything she had been dreaming of that she left behind in Kirkwall was turned to dust. Now a year in Kirkwall her children were no longer indentured servants to the Red Iron, they were trying to make everything better and hell even went and busted into their own home for her.

Pulling on a sweater and his pants Conner went outside on quiet feet, knowing with his mind running and gut full of knots he wouldn't get any sleep.

Around him Low Town was changing the guard from the night people to the 'respectable' people of the day. The cracked and chipped wall of the building he called home was easy to climb. The way up was almost muscle memory at this point and he was atop the building in the first morning light before his brain had time to process he ought to have put shoes on. From up here Low Town sprawled and twisted in its warrens around the feet of High Town's gleaming towers. Behind him and below Dark Town lay still in shadow beyond the boughs of the alienage tree, Vhendadahl. Further out the fingers of the docks stretched out to the Gallows, poised like a vicious guard dog that was ever watchful of the city just out of reach.

The wind from the sea washed away the stink of the billowing foundries, tugging at his hair and sweater. It once belonged to the son of a Red Iron. His father said the boy grew out of it and was tired of seeing Hawke's scrawny ass shiver on a stake out. At the time Conner hadn't owned much besides his armor and weapons. Since then the large cabled gray sweater had been his favored thing to have on when not in his leathers. He had since filled out a bit more thanks to steady work and semi-steady meals but the sleeves still swam on him and the collar had been pulled wide while the hem dropped below his belt. He wondered sometimes how big the boy had to be to have 'grown out' of it.

Perched up on the roof, legs dangling over the edge he tried to let that wind blow away the maelstrom of thoughts in his head. Keeping Bethany safe and out of Templar hands. Actually now he had to add Anders and Merrill to the list of people to keep out of the Templar's clutches. Anders knew what it was to be in the circle and escape it on several occasions. Bethany understood the brutality of the Templars when hunting apostates. Merrill had no clue and would probably use that damned Blood Magic to keep safe; Templars loved Blood Mages. The cupbord at the house was growing thin again, the weather cooling off to the chill of Autumn. That also meant the need for more wood and coal to heat the house, warmer clothing for the girls and thicker blankets. Alternatively it meant warmer clothing for him and sleeping without blankets again. He'd sooner sleep up on the roof than share a bed with Gamlin again. He was barely scraping enough coin together for the Expedition and time was not kind in that regard. Bartrand was growing antsy and only Varric's talent for dealing with his brother kept him at bay. Avaline was getting a list of jobs for him to help handle with while she was in transition to becoming Guard Captain and weeding out the bad eggs in the ranks so that was keeping him busy besides what Varric drummed up. Now there was Isabella and Fenris with whatever troubles they had to bring into the mix.

He'd done this all his life... worry and fret about others. His father had depended on him to help take care of the twins and his mother. After he died Conner picked up a lot more of the slack and had begun to take jobs to help make money for the family. Honest work... didn't pay as well as less honest work. His siblings had no idea how hard he'd blooded himself for them to keep them safe. The Templar Hunters he'd mislead, the bandits trying to edge in on the farm he'd chased away... people who'd been upset by Carver he'd appeased or beat up. While Mother schooled the twins he'd given up his studies to work the fields. When anyone got sick he went out to get the herbs to make the poultices and cures to make them better. When food got scarce he hunted it down. All the while Carver dreamed of being better and Bethany didn't spend every waking moment in fear of her powers. He'd made sure when they got here Mother was taken care of, that Gamlin didn't take advantage of her and they kept the roof over their heads. He'd already begun to pay back rent not because he loved his uncle but because it was what had to be done for the sake of everyone else.

Maybe that's what bothered him so much about Isabella. She'd do anything for her crew up to a point. Now she had no ship so she could do whatever she wanted as long as she stayed a step ahead of whoever was trying to kill her. That ability to just... do and be whatever bothered Conner and if he was smart enough to admit it to himself it was jealousy that drove it. He was even a bit jealous of Fenris who had a whole new life to discover and build for himself if he'd just step out and do it. It was silly and childish of him sure but someone had to give his family, his friends, the opportunity to have this life. He didn't see it as a sacrifice, hadn't since he was young, he saw it as who he was.

Even if it weighed on him and kept him awake all hours of the night.

Which brought his brain back to the fear at hand. It wasn't that he didn't think his friends would understand or hate him for preferring men; it was that they may insist on trying to hook him up. It'd be in every joke soon enough and there were a lot of ears in the Hanged Man to catch wind of it. His reputation could be ruined. Not that he feared for his reputation more what it did for his family. His mother didn't like it... he was the heir to the Hawke and Amell family names now so he had to be the one to give her grand children and carry on. She had such expectations and he was sure he'd kill himself to meet them all. He worried for the reactions of the men he knew and had fought beside. He had so far avoided any relations of any sort as he was far too busy with everything else. He had no time for it. Like Avaline he was simply too busy and dedicated to his duties.

Anders fancied him a bit, it was obvious anyway with all those dreamy looks over the 5th pint. Would he be offended that he found Fenris so attractive and intriguing? Anders was human, well the part that wasn't occupied by Justice, a fellow Ferelden, someone just trying to get by and help anyone he could. Fenris was an angry elven ex-slave with holes in his memory and a fascinating talent to rip people's hearts out of their chests and glow in the dark. Maybe it was the part of him that saw Anders being another to protect like his sister? Maybe it was that nagging sense that told him Anders was dangerous though not as bad as Fenris claimed? Their arguing since they met would drive him mad he knew it.

So what was it about the damn elf that had him so... distracted? In battle he was fierce and unyielding. He was honest about his beliefs and convictions yet he was more than just his anger and brooding. There was an interesting innocence about him and a sorrow in that emerald gaze too. The little laugh he'd managed to pull out of the elf had fluttered his heart against his ribs. To see a smile on his face had been the first inkling of the conundrum he now found himself in. Sure his hatred consumed him when it came up... unlike Anders though it wasn't a cause it was a reaction to what had happened. Anders was a crusader for his beliefs. Maybe that's what turned him off too.

Conner heaved a heavy sigh and slumped forward, leaning on his legs as they dangled above the street. He had no idea how to get ahead of this problem or how to make it disappear. He could have just been panicking about it and maybe nothing would happen... or it could all blow up in his face.

"Andraste's Tits Hawke! Buddy don't do anything hasty now all right ?" Conenr blinked and looked between his dangling legs at the street below. Varric looked fit to be a spooked nug, hands in the air in a calming gesture as he looked up with wide eyes. Beside him stood Fenris and Merrill; both elves looking perplexed and a little concerned. Bethany was there too, a hand to her mouth and looking worried. "Just stay up there and... and... don't do anything hasty ok?"

"Oh Brother please don't fall off! What are you doing up there in the first place?" Bethany asked in a fit of worry. She always looked at him that way when he did something to upset her - liked a kicked puppy.

The door to the house opened and Leandra came out looking cross at the commotion. Looking around now Conner realized he'd been thinking for a good portion of the morning which explained why she didn't look like she just woke up and why Varric was there. Probably to get him for the next job. "What is all the fuss about?" she demanded. Apparently they'd been talking up at him for a little while and he was just now noticing.

"Maddam Hawke sorry to disturb you this morning but... er... it's Hawke..." Varric started to try and explain while maintaining eye contact with Conner as if will alone would keep him where he was.

"He's doing it again, Mother." Bethany said with a sigh and a toss of her hair, pointing up.

"How did he get up there I wonder?" Merrill asked getting a shrug from Fenris. "I didn't know humans climbed."

"I know some times humans climb high things to jump off of them..." the swordsman replied.

"He'll kill himself at that height!" Merrill seemed to get it now though her discovery could have come at a better and more discrete time. Her exclamation caused Leandra to look up and for a moment looked shocked at Conner before putting her fists on her hips.

"Cornelius Garrett Hawke you get down here this instant!" She demanded, stomping a foot and pointing at the street. Her face was scrunched up in that powerful look of Motherly Disapproval. "How many times have I told you not to do things like this?" Beside her she could see Varric mouth his true name, looking between mother and son. If he weren't so panicked he'd be poking fun.

"Be right down." Conner said rolling his eyes and getting to his feet. Stepping back from the edge a moment he braced himself for what lay below, tucking the musings of his morning away and replacing it with the ever present cocky little lip quirk. Taking a breath he ran forward and leaped into the air. He loved this feeling, free for a few brief instances before the ground came back to claim him. He made the gap between buildings, gripping onto the edge of the opposite roof, digging his toes into the stone before letting to and pushing of to flip backwards, landing on a window sill. The next leap landed him on a support beam that stuck out of the building. Stepping backwards he slipped from it, grasping it as he fell past it to swing and land soundly in a crouch on the street near the others. He straightened up, tugging his sweater back down from where it had rode up his stomach and regarded the others with a jaunty little wave and grin. "Morning."

"What were you doing up there? What were you thinking?" Leandra stormed right over to him and got in his face, brow creased as she frowned at him. "What if you fell doing that little stunt or while you were up there? You frightened your friends and you sister with this foolishness."

"I needed somewhere to think that's all." he tried to defend himself, softening his smile to help calm her down.

"You can damn well think on the ground young man." she grabbed his arm, intent to tug him back in the house. "Carver never would have done something so so..." He winced and pulled back. Her grip wasn't as strong as it had been when he was a child so his arm slid free. For some reason he... just couldn't take it today.

"Well he isn't here is he?" He didn't mean to say it so angry, to let the words pass his lips but they did anyway. "You're stuck with me and I'm sorry for it, Mother. I'm not Carver."

"You are right... you aren't." she said crossing her arms over her chest. "Carver may have had a temper but he'd never frighten us like you do. Do you remember the time you fell out of that Oak tree and nearly broke your neck? You scared Carver to death he thought you died there when you didn't move. Your Father forbade you from ever climbing again."

"Well, Mother, here's some news for you... both of them are not me and both of them are dead." He couldn't stop it even if he wanted to so Conner did what he did best... own it. "Hard to impose the rules of a dead man."

The crack of her slap stung more than he expected and nearly had him staggering. "How... dare you speak of your Father and Brother that way? How dare you speak to me that way! They died for this family! Your Father did everything he could to see all his children lead a good life. Carver... Carver died to see we got out of Loathering so don't you dare tarnish their sacrifice!"

"Father died for us and left his responsibility to me. Carver died to protect you and Maker help me you wish it was the other way around on a damn daily basis. Don't think for a moment I don't know it." He was shaking with anger that had been bottled up for who knows how long. "They might have died for this family but I still bleed for it while you reap the benefits. It's my blade and blood that keeps the roof over our heads, food in our stomachs and clothing on our backs. So if I need a damn minute to get over whatever is in my head from keep my sister safe when she's out with me to how I'm going to afford coal to keep you warm; I will take it when and where I damn well please."

"Don't you speak to Mother that way." Bethany came up behind Leandra, furious tears dancing in her eyes even if pride kept them from falling. "Don't you even think to breath another word if it isn't an apology. We know you do a lot for us, Conner, but that gives you no right to be mad at her for worrying about you. You aren't the only one trying to make sure we have a good life so don't put all of this on your shoulders. Carver would have decked you the instant you came down and I have half a mind to do the exact same thing."

Conner looked between his friends and family, at the varying looks of shock, betrayal, fear, worry... Varric had a sad expression on his face, he could hear his mental comments already. Merrill looked in tears half hiding behind Fenris. The branded elf looked as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle with what lay before him. Gamlin had even come out, giving him a dirty horrid look. The commotion had dragged others out to watch the drama...He opened his mouth to say something and could see the threat from his sister playing out, could feel the wrong words forming...

So he ran...

He shut his eyes and turned on his bare feet, going from still to full run in an instant. He was around the corner and up over the raw iron fencing between buildings into free fall again before he registered Bethany calling out to him. The impact of the roof on the tier below where he lived rattle his teeth when he could hear Varric's voice rise up behind him too. He just had to get away, be mad somewhere else, put all of this back where it belonged away from everyone before he could come back and apologize. Until then he stopped thinking and let his body take him where it willed.

In his flight he could not hear their voices, the angry words shared or unsaid unable to keep up. His mind only worked on how to get from one roof to the next, the cadence of the run. It would not let him focus on the doubts, the fears, the hurt he left behind him. He had not indulged in running from everything in a very long time. He'd always stood to face it, to tear it down, to win against everything others and he himself put in his way.

He knew he couldn't out run the storm he left behind, the one he dragged with him...but today, in this moment, he could pretend.


	2. Rule 1 part 2

Care and Feeding of a Hawke

Behind that Eldritch Mask pt 2

It was mid day by the time Conner stopped running, exhausted and worn out. His body protested the abuse loudly enough to finally get him to stop. Conner had no earthly idea where he was in the city, somewhere above Low Town still, not far from the docks and where the Quinari were hold up. He slumped to the sun baked roof, soaked with sweat and shivering from the cool breeze off the sea. He had no idea how long he'd been running, if anyone was following him at all be they friend or foe. Only now as he sat breathing hard did he realize he left without weapons, without coin or company. He looked like some down on his luck refugee which could either keep him out of trouble or get him into it. His practical side warred with the rest of him on how foolish he was being.

"Finally finished running all over the city?" Conner spun into a crouch, hands poised as if holding his daggers, amber eyes ablaze and ready for a fight. It took him a moment to recognize Fenris standing across the roof with his arms folded over his chest. While Conner was still breathing hard Fenris looked as if he could keep running all damn day. He was a bit jealous of the elf's unflappable look actually. "I have no intention to cause you harm...the others were... concerned when you took off earlier. I seem to be the only one who could keep up."

Conner straightened up and ran his hands through his hair. "That was not exactly how I wanted this morning to start. Nor how I really wanted my friends to see me."

"It has proved to be an interesting morning." Fenris quirked a little smile and a shrug. "How did you climb up there in the first place?"

"The walls have enough cracks and nooks to get a hold of. I used to climb all the time." Conner shrugged and rubbed at his arm where his mother had grabbed him. "She hates it when I do."

"Your Mother mentioned as much in a fashion..." Fenris said as he looked Hawke over, reading into him perhaps. Not for the first time Conner wished he knew what he was thinking. "She mentioned an oak tree?"

"That was the last thing I climbed to her knowledge. We had this big old oak on our property and for ages I climbed it. One day after a rain storm I went out with my brother, Carver. I didn't realize the tree had a broken branch, it looked fine and had climbed on it hundreds of times. It broke and I fell, hitting every limb on the way down it seemed." Conner pulled one of the sleeves up to show an old scar, like a little rip in his skin that just pearled over. "Broke my arm when it got caught and the bone came right through. I hit the ground unconscious... woke up to my Father using his magic to heal me back in the house. I hit my head a few times and at one point stopped breathing. Carver was afraid of heights from that point on."

"So your mother is justified in her fear." Fenris moved to sit down, setting his sword across his lap. Conner sat too, sprawling back on the roof to stare at the sky and calm his breathing. "Your father was a mage?"

"Yes... an apostate. Mother eloped with him and fled to Ferelden. He seemed a little disappointed when I showed no talent in magic but he taught me how to fight people who used it anyway. When Bethany and Carver were born...well since then I've been the one keeping them out of trouble and landing myself neck deep in it."

"Did he teach your sister how to use her magic?" Conner could pick up the beginnings of the 'i hate mages' growl in his voice.

"He did... showed her how to control it first, then how to hide it. He taught her about how to guard against demons, templars... persistent brothers who wanted her to use magic to help with chores. Most of her magic is subtle and she knows how to fight without it too. If anyone knew she was a mage she'd be taken away, all of us tested for magic. Before they were born we just moved when someone questioned my father about magic. After we settled in Loathering." Conner turned his head to regard Fenris. "I know you hate mages, and in a way justifiably so considering your circumstances; however my sister is a lot different than a magister. You say you cannot trust a mage on the outside but I've been fighting to keep her out of the Circle most of my life. I like to think I have a damn good idea what my sister is like and how to handle her magic if she ever loses control. And she has in the past...she has much better control now."

"I... should not have spoken as I did about your sister after you helped me in Danarious' mansion. I still cannot see how you still trust so many of them." Fenris fidgeted where he sat, seemingly uncomfortable apologizing even if he did it all the time.

"I can't paint everyone with the same brush. Just because I try to keep Bethany out of the Circle and away from Templar attention does not mean all Templars are bad. I won't label every Ferelden I meet as a lazy refugee or snub my nose at every Orlesian... Its demeaning to people. I do hate slavers on principle though." Conner sighed and looked back up at the sky, unsure if he could face Fenris' scrutiny. "I don't see you as a slave or a sword or just an angry elf. You are your own person, someone who is trying to define himself and get even with the people who caused you harm. You also happen to be quite smart, have serious endurance if you managed to follow me all this way and you have to be a decent friend to even bother at all. You speak your mind and stand by your convictions... even if I think you are wrong about all mages you are right about some. I don't have to agree with you to like you as a person."

"You see all of that in me? We have barely known one another a week." Fenris furrowed his brow, frowning a bit at Conner's admission.

"I've learned to read people. To look farther than what they show." Conner laughed a bit. "I mean up until this spectacular failure of a morning how did you view me?"

"You are a capable fighter and leader. You seem to have garnered the loyalty of a few people who normally would not be around one another. I have seen you walk as easily in the Guard Barracks as you do down a Low Town street as if you belonged there with every right to be there. I was surprised to see Anso had found such a capable person to help me." the rogue didn't miss the softer tone to Fenris' voice as he mentioned it. He reminded his heart to stop reading everything as a sign of affection from the elf.

"I meant what I said when I told you that all you had to do was ask."

"That too... you help and ask for little in return, often before you know someones character. Sometimes before you even know what you are getting into." Fenris shook his head. "You are a strange man Hawke. But one more honest and true than any I've met in a long time."

"Even with this outburst today?" Conner winced, still abel to recall with frightening accuracy the look on his mother and sister's faces.

"Everyone has their limits. It is unrealistic for anyone to expect you to do what you do and not be affected by it." Fenris graced Conner with another ghost of a smile. "I do have to say though you show a great deal of fortitude. You sounded resentful of caring for your family as you do however. A burden you keep on yourself even if you have no need to."

"I... don't really know what else to do." Conner folded his arms behind his head from where he lay on the ground, sweater riding up to show his stomach, hasty bandages and little ripples of scars peppered across the exposed skin. "You were a slave and shook off your shackles... you make it sound like I willingly chain myself."

"Do you?"

"Perhaps I do... but I dare not think of what will happen to my mother and sister... hell even Gamlin if I stopped and walked away. I don't think I could walk away from them. Not from Varric or Avaline... even Isabella and Merrill or even Anders. Least of all you." Conner caught an intrigued look and tilt of the head from Fenris at that last bit. The rogue blushed a little and looked back to the sky to try and act like it hadn't happened.

"It is... what you do and who you are, Hawke; but there is more to you than what people see. I... am greatful to see that side of you."

"Why? Nice to know that even a human or someone who has it all together can fall down too?"

"No." Fenris stood, sheathing his sword across his back. "A lesser man would have continued the argument, perhaps become violent against family. You saw yourself as a threat to them and removed yourself... there is a strength to you I did not see before and am glad for it. One day, perhaps, I shall figure you out." Fenris gvae him a small, fragile half smile. A barely there one but it was very much worth it. He reached down to help his companion back to his feet.

"Well at least I can prove to be entertaning until you do." Conner took his hand in a firm grip and was pulled back up with very little effort of his own. It was almost frightening and more than a little enticing how strong Fenris actually was. "I will have to apologize to Mother and Bethany... Just...not now."

"Come... let us go to the Hanged Man. Your sister said if anyone finds you to go there first. I am sure by now Captain Avaline has sent some of the city guard looking for you."

"She does hate it when she can't keep tabs on me." Conner smirked a bit, heading to the roof edge to look for a way down.

"Conner?" Fenris looked at the rogue, sure he was once again going to fling himself into free fall to get to the ground. He didn't want to tell the human how many times he was sure that he'd be peeling him off of a building or the street during the chase."There is a ladder over here."

"Oh.. well we could use that sure." Conner shrugged and followed Fenris down to the ground, leaping down the last few rungs just for the heck of it. "Well lead on, to the Hanged Man and whatever awaits."

"Of course... one more thing however." Fenris turned to face the slightly taller man squarely, eyeing him in a way that made Conner's stomach flutter in that cold yet thrilling way. "Cornelius?"

"Oh Maker..." Conner's palm impacted his own face with a resounding smack, gold eyes peaking between his fingers. "Mother wanted a good proper name... Father didn't want me to hate my name and I had a hell of a time spelling it so Conner stuck."

"You do realize the others are going to poke fun for a while."

"Weeks at the least! Then they'll wait till I forget they know." The rogue's shoulders slumped, making him look even more waifish in the over-sized sweater and bare feet. Fenris caught himself following the darkening line of the man's blush down around his ears and along the contours of his neck.

"I think I prefer Conner." Fenris said quietly walking in step with his friend. The smile he earned was worth the entire run across rooftops.


End file.
